Bluer Than Blue
by mspolapotter
Summary: Part 3 of the Jaded Emerald Trilogy. It's goodbye London, hello New York for Hermione as she flies away to clear her head and sort out her feelings. She learns how to live alone and learns to want to be American. However, can anyone really forget their first love? Even when they're halfway around the world?
1. Touchdown

Hey guys!

Yay! Bluer than Blue is back :))) I've had a hard time doing the editing since I have a lot of schoolwork, but I managed. Yay. I hope this is TONS better than the first. There were several plot problems and grammar errors that made me cringe a bit and I had to edit everything.

Also, I should warn you that the first few chapters are a bit AU, since I have to introduce a new character rather than just suddenly making him pop out without any relevant point.

_**Warning:**_ This fic mentions situations and events that happened in the first two of the trilogy. So I recommend that you read _Jaded Emerald_ and_ Rustic Amber_ first in order to understand the situation.

Without further ado, Please Enjoy.

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**Disclaimer:** Everything except the plot belongs to JK Rowling. No money was made from the production of this fanfiction.

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**_Bluer Than Blue_**

_a Harry-Hermione Fanfiction by mspolapotter_

_Part 3 of the Jaded Emerald Trilogy_

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**Chapter 1:** Touchdown

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Hermione arose from her sleep to hear the stewardess's announcement that they were touching down on New York. She looked outside her window and saw the towering skyscrapers. Everything looked modern, even from a bird's eye view. Everything looked new. Everything looked so foreign…and yet so familiar. She thought fleetingly about her luggage, where she had buried her wand, and thinking whether she should have put it in her hand. She shook her head, determined to forget her second life.

The plane touched down on the tarmac and when she left the airplane, she breathed the air, which smelled faintly of the smoke from the cars on the streets ahead. She introduced the new air to her lungs who clearly protested by tickling her throat. Hermione gave a small cough to clear it.

As she walked through the bustling airport, she realized how familiar everything was: the businessman with his Blackberry almost permanently attached to their ear; the tourist, looking desperately for someone with the same features as him, eager to ask if he could guide him; the annoyed artist, with his earbuds in place, head lightly banging to the beat of his own drum; and the celebrity, being flocked by paparazzi and notorious tabloid reporters, clearly demanding to update them this very second. Yes, all this was very familiar, even as she waited for her luggage at the carousel she felt no different. She'd been no stranger to travelling, as she and her parents almost always traveled to France. She pulled out her luggage from the carousel (two suitcases and a duffel) and wondered how Crookshanks was doing. As tempting as it was to have someone be with her in this new journey, she was afraid of his magic mixing with her own and risking exposure. All the thoughts of never using magic again flitted through her mind one by one, but a certain thought linked to everything didn't budge.

Harry.

Even though this new life was all because she wanted to forget about him, she simply couldn't. She chastised herself; it wasn't easy to forget someone when you saw him only a few days ago, with an unspoken promise of always being available when he needed her.

In a daze, she walked to the taxi bay and waited. In about half an hour she was able to finally reach the end of the line. She was about to tell the driver where to take her when suddenly, a man about her age, dressed in a hoodie and jeans walked up and basically stole the taxi.

"Excuse me?" she called to the man, who was already inside. "That's my taxi.

"Doesn't have your name on it," he said sarcastically, looking around the passenger seat in mock search for her name."

"_I_ got here first, you bloody arse!"

"Yep, I think I'm going to pretend that I understood that," the guy replied. "Look, Miss, I know you're new here and all, but you can't expect everyone to give you special treatment just because you're the new kid. Thousands of people go through this airport everyday, so how different can you be? So, if you think you're going to be treated like a perfect lady here in New York, well you're in for a rude awakening."

The guy raised the tinted window with a mock salute, smirking at Hermione. She was stunned. She then realized that what he said could be true. He'd lived the fairy tale part of her life. Was it time for reality?

"The _nerve_!" she screamed, stomping her foot down indignantly. Luckily, another taxi stopped in front of her.

"Where to, miss?" he asked with a smile. Hermione instantly felt some of her anger ebb away. She gave the address to the driver and loaded her luggage in the trunk. "We'll be there in a jiff," the driver said as Hermione climbed in the backseat.

While the driver was winding through the traffic, her phone beeped.

"Hello?"

"Got there okay?" Ginny asked from the other line. "No problem at the immigration?"

"I'm good," Hermione replied. "It's really lovely over here. If not for the bloke that stole my taxi, everything would have been perfect."

"Come on, it's not like there's a taxi shortage in New York, is it?" Ginny scoffed. "Some people are just arses, Hermione."

"Yes, but it was still awfully rude of him though."

"Mione," Ginny said reproachfully. "You're in the Muggle world now. In New York, no less. No one knows you, or what you've accomplished, so you can't expect them to treat you the way you're treated here. New York's more artsy and business-y that London. London still has that sort of regal touch to it."

"You know what's funny? It's foreign and yet familiar."

"You chose that anyway," Ginny said. "Listen, I have to go. Ron doesn't exactly know that you're talking to me, so if he finds out he might hex me into next week."

"Okay then," she breathed.

"I love you, dear," Ginny said.

"You too." She pressed the end button and sighed again.

"British eh?" the taxi driver asked. "Can't help but overhear your conversation about that guy stealing your taxi. It happens a lot in New York, so I say you better be careful. Learn to be aggressive. Here for school?"

"Yes, NYU," Hermione replied.

"The dormitory you found was a good one," he replied. "Hard to get empty studios there. The place is relatively close to campus and it ain't as dingy as the ones near the pubs."

"Thanks," Hermione said with a smile.

"Are you from London?" the driver asked. "I have a niece who lives there. Her accent sounds just like yours."

"Yes," she replied. "I used to go to boarding school in Scotland, though."

"There are some great schools in the UK," the driver said. "Oxford…Cambridge…Watcha doing in dingy ol' USA?"

"Oh, it was a dream of mine," she lied easily.

"Ah," the driver replied. He stopped the cab. "We're here. I'll help you load your things."

_Well, I guess not all New Yorkers are bad after all_, she thought.

The driver unloaded her suitcases and even wanted to carry it up her room.

"You sure you don't need help loading this in the elevator?"

"I'll be fine thanks," she replied with a smile. She then paid the man and gave him a very generous tip. He tipped his hat and stepped inside the cab.

"By the way, Miss, welcome to New York," he said before driving away singing "_I wanna be a part of it, New York, New Yoooork!"_

Hermione just chuckled and looked around.

"Welcome home, Mines," she said to herself. She flung her travel bag over her shoulder and started lifting her suitcase up the steps.

After lugging her things upstairs, she went to the landlady to pay her downpayment and get her keys. She looked around her furnished third-floor apartment. It smelled good, like someone moved out of it only the previous week. She looked around to see if everything was just as it should be and then begun to make her apartment look like home.

She started with wiping away dust, sweeping dust bunnies and searching for cobwebs. Then she cleaned the kitchen sink, the countertops, then the shower and the toilet. When everything was in order, she began putting on her favorite lavender colored (and scented) curtains on every window. She wiped the couch clean and sprayed disinfectant under the sink, on the mattress, on the cushions and in the closet. She opened the fridge and then started cleaning it as well to get rid of the musty smell. She turned it on and put a magnetized blackboard on the fridge's door. She dragged the furniture and arranged it to her liking. She set up her study area near a window, far from the temptation of the bed. She filled up the bookcase and pushed it near her study area. She arranged her school supplies on the desk and put up a corkboard. She arranged her clothes inside the closet which was built in next to the Murphy bed. Finally, she put on lavender colored and scented bedsheets on the mattress of her Murphy bed. She tacked Gryffindor and Hogwarts banners on the inside wall and even risked tacking a moving photo of the DA and the Golden Trio. When she was satisfied, she went out to exchange her currency in order to buy groceries.

It was already nighttime when she got back home and she couldn't wait to plop down on her bed and sleep. Her body clock was barely adjusted and she needed rest. Just as she was unwrapping a Chocolate Frog from her secret stash, someone knocked on her door. She opened it a crack and a blonde girl around her age smile back at her.

"Hello," she said. "Hermione right? Hermione Granger? The girl from London?"

"Um, yes?"

"I'm Joanna Anderson," the girl said, offering her hand. "I used to live here."

"Oh," Hermione replied, opening the door wider in order to shake her hand. "Pleasure to meet you. Do come in, I hope I did okay with your flat."

"Um, flat?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Hermione apologized sheepishly. "I meant apartment."

"Oh," Joanna said, looking around. "Wow, you did amazing! Looks better than when I lived here! Hey, I'm starving and I sorta really wanna hang out with you. Let's go out to dinner. My treat. "

"Um, you go on ahead, I don't think—"

"Come on, I'm not taking no for an answer," she replied. Grabbing her wrist and smiling. "Please?"

Hermione looked at the hand holding her wrist and marveled at how easily this girl accepted her. She smiled and grabbed her keys.

"Okay, if you insist."

"Great!"

In her opinion, New York was amazing. At night, it simply came alive. Joanna knew just what places to take her to. They first ate out at a nearby Pizzeria and then started to wander off Times Square. Hermione looked at the bright lights, fascinated. She'd seen London at night, but New York made her feel like the morning was extended and the sun was too tired to keep up.

Before going home, they entered a coffee shop called Starbucks.

"What'll you have?" Joanna asked.

Hermione was bewildered. "Tea?"

Joanna smiled. "You're cute," she said with a laugh. Then she turned to the barista at the counter. "Two grande Caramel Macchiatos please. Extra skim and an espresso shot each."

Hermione found herself enjoying whatever Joanna told her to do. Eventually, they became close friends. Joanna would come over to her old apartment to share things with Hermione about the New York way. She became her sort-of personal tour guide and campus guide. They were in the same year, except Joanna knows so much about NYU because it was her second time to shift courses.

She finished registration and Joanna was nowhere to be found. She decided to just stay put and wait for her. If she didn't come in five minutes, she would call her on her mobile.

She thought it would be difficult to get her Hogwarts transcript and diploma to pass through, but it had been easy peasy. Maybe Muggles saw something different when they looked at it? Absentmindedly, she began arranging her papers. She collided with someone and everything fell to the floor.

"Oh no" she sighed, bending down and hoping no one would see what was actually written on the Hogwarts papers. She silently Crucio'd whomever bumped into her for running away. But apparently, whoever it was didn't. A second figure bent down and helped.

"Sorry, miss, let me get that," a male voice said. Hermione was so busy getting her papers away from anyone else's sight that she didn't notice who the man was until he handed her the papers. Bot their mouths fell open in shock.

"You!"

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There! I hope you guys liked it!

Please do post your reviews. They are a big factor for the story's improvement.

For Filipino readers, I have a non-fanfiction story with around the same plot as this on Wattpad which is under the same penname I have here. I'm also now on Portkey and Dramione . Org

Yay! thank you :3


	2. An Unconventional Friendship

**Chapter 2:** Unconventional Friendships

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"You're that taxi-stealing prick at the airport!" Hermione said indignantly, grabbing her papers from his hand.

"You're that British Little Miss Priss who thinks every girl should be treated like a perfect lady!" the man shot back.

Hermione scoffed, "Well, excuse me for knowing proper etiquette."

For a while the two of them just stared at each other, exchanging blows in both their heads and breathing heavily.

"Y-you go here?" the man asked curiously.

"No, I'm here to become a professor," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Damn, why you?" the man whispered.

"Excuse me?" Hermione said angrily.

"Look, I was joking," the man said with a chuckle. He offered his hand. "Charles Adamson, the taxi-stealing prick. Also an engineering major.

Hermione stared at his hand and then his face and then back to his hand again. _Well, there's no use making enemies, I guess._ She took his hand. "Hermione Granger, the British Little Miss Priss. Literature major."

"So, I guess I'll see you around?"

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't." She said. She saw Joanna approaching from behind Charles and walked away.

"I see you've met Charles?" Joanna remarked, catching up to her. She had to sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil in her hands and gave her one.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the sandwich. "You know him? He was the bloke who stole my taxi."

They settled down on the grass and unwrapped their sandwiches. Hermione took a bite and the bad vibes went away immediately.

"Oh, forgive him already," Joanna said, waving her hand dismissively. "He grew up here. He's used to the New York way."

"But if you grew up in Los Angeles, how come you know him?"

"I used to live here for about five years," she replied. "My dad got reassigned to LA, so I had to continue there. We're sorta like childhood friends. We kept writing to each other. When he found out about my studying here in NYU, he dropped his Columbia scholarship. Pretty awesome reunion, huh?"

"Oh, I see," Hermione said, her voice still bitter. She still couldn't get over Charles stealing her taxi, even if he was friends with Hermione's only friend (so far) in New York. She mumbled, "I hope he's not in any of my classes."

"Fat chance, babe," Joanna replied. "NYU's a big university. Not to mention he's engineering."

Hermione found it hard to adjust to the Muggle environment when school began. She got the hang of it slowly, with the help of several friends. She got used to the library system (she had a hard time remembering that the books didn't return themselves), lived almost completely alone (the almost was due to Joanna's frequent sleepovers) and learned to budget her time and money.

For some reason however, she was unable to wake up early one day for her Classics class. She managed to finish her morning routine in half the time and arrived in class just a minute before the professor entered. The front seats were already taken, so she had to settle for one in the back.

The professor gave a lecture on Homer and the differences between Greek, Roman and Norse mythologies. Hermione could barely hear from her place in the back and slowly, she fell into a sleepy stupor. She mentally slapped herself awake.

"What are you, a stalker or something?" Hermione recognized the voice and groaned.

"It's you," she said, "How is it possible that I have a class with you in it?"

"Believe me, I'm not sure," Charles replied. "I've been here since the beginning of the semester and only now did you decide to show up. I would have been perfectly okay in this class with not knowing that you're in it."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, feeling slightly offended. The professor started calling roll.

"Don't you realize how much that pretty little British head of yours can be a distraction?" he said. Then he started to gather his belongings as the professor called out "Anderson." He crouched low and walked past Hermione's seat. "Now I have to go before the professor realizes that I'm not enrolled in this class."

And he sneakily made his way out of the classroom. Hermione watched his retreating back in a daze. _What did he say?_

"Granger!" The professor called. Hermione was snapped out of her reverie and raised her hand after realizing that the professor had just called her name several times.

Later that afternoon, Hermione caught up with Charles on the grounds. Her head had been wrapped around what he said all day and she was going to have answers now.

"Look, if you honestly don't want to see me, you can say that straight to my face and I would stay away from you."

Charles sighed.

"I didn't even do anything to you! I just want to study and to finish college here and I just want to forget—"

"I just want to be friends with you," Charles said. "That's all. I didn't mean to sound offensive in any way. Whatever it is you want to forget, I can help you."

Hermione realized that in her anger, she almost said too much. She was dumbstruck.

"Well, that's a stupid way to try and make friends." She said with a smile.

Since then, the two of tried to be civil with on another as much as possible. Charles avoided his sarcastic jokes and Hermione avoided being a bossy know-it-all. Eventually, they fell into a steay friendship.

The semester flew by, bringing changes that Hermione didn't even recognize anymore. She learned her American slang and accent, and was able to switch from time to time. She learned to be laid-back and liberated, allowing herself to enjoy every once in a while with the occasional beer or chocolate bar. Somewhere along the way, Charles managed to become her best friend.

Yes. Charles. That "guy who stole her cab." How it actually happened, no one was sure.

Finals were approaching and for once, she wasn't the haggard mess that she usually was back in her Hogwarts days. They were sitting on the grounds for a well-deserved lunch break after three hours of studying in the library. She looked at them and went back to the time when she and the Gryffindors would play Exploding Snap at the lake while Hermione had her nose in the book and chastised them for not studying. They had pretty much the same scenario, except there were no spells, no wand, no Hermione telling them off.

"Can you keep a secret?" Charles suddenly whispered in Hermione's ear. He was rubbing his eyes which had become red and watery. She slapped his arm to prevent him from scratching. He looked at her with his electric blue eyes. "I'm taking that as a yes." He grabbed her by the wrist and stood her up.

"Be back in a sec, guys," Charles said, dragging Hermione away from the group.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.

"Dorm." He continued to drag her up to his dorm building which was still inside the school grounds. It was one of the benefits of his scholarship.

They reached his room and Charles locked the door behind them. Hermione paled considerably.

"I'm not going to rape you!" Charles said in an incredulous tone. Hermione willed herself to breathe and sat down on Charles's bed. "And if I would, I'd sure as hell not tell you."

"Ass," she said, slapping him playfully on the arm again. He entered the bathroom with one last look at her. She played with his bedside stuff while waiting for him.

Hermione heard footsteps. "Decided to rape me yet?" She stood up and looked at him and felt that there was something…different about the way he looked.

And then Hermione realized it as soon as the "Harry" part of her brain (which she constantly suppressed) ticked.

Charles eyes were the exact same color as Harry's. Jade in the dark and emerald in the light.

Hermione's chest constricted, and she felt her eyes suddenly snap open. Her heart skipped a beat and her legs felt weak. The feelings she tried so hard to contain erupted and butterflies broke free in her stomach. All this just because she saw his eyes.

"Charles…" she said. "Why are your eyes…_green_?"

"Get comfy. I'm going to tell you a story."

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Here's the main reason why I had to edit the entire story. I was unable to include that bit with the eyes. Now you see how important that is.

Thanks for reading. Please review :)


	3. The Truth About Charles

I'm back! Wew. School started last June and only now was I able to get some time off to do my work. I'm really sorry this took so long! But I do hope you guys enjoy :))

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**Chapter 3:** The Truth About Charles

"You know that I'm the oldest right?" Charles asked. He sat down on the chair in front of the study desk.

"Yeah," Hermione replied, fiddling with the edge of his pillow on the bed.

"And that I don't have a Dad?"

"No," she replied, alarmed. "You didn't tell me that."

Charles snickered. "You see I was around seven when … _it_ happened," he began. "I'd woken up late at night, hearing my Mom beg for mercy. I made my way to their room silently and saw that he was beating her. His reason, I don't know. But that was a hard mental image to get out of my mind. I hated him since then."

By him, Hermione assumed that Charles was referring to his father.

"A few days before Christmas that same year, he left. In my opinion, it was the best Christmas gift our family could ever receive. Of course, I had to grow up immediately. Mom was already juggling three jobs. Granny came in to take care of us for a while, but after several years she got really sick. I already had a job by then so we could afford a sitter. Our sitter was actually a friend of mine from my job. She'd offered to sit for free, but I wouldn't let her.

"A couple of years ago, my mom got her big break and I got my scholarships both in Brown and NYU. Joanna also managed to contact me and said she got in NYU, so NYU it is. And now, here we are."

Hermione stared at the ceiling, not trusting herself to look into Harry's—_Charles's_ eyes. She let everything to sink in for a while, but the memories that flew back in her mind disrupted everything.

"That still doesn't explain why you change your eye color," she said after a while.

"Oh, that," he said with a laugh. "You see, I got my green eyes from him. When I was a kid, I noticed that Mom smiled differently at me. It's not exactly a forced smile…but it was like…he was avoiding looking into my eyes. It took me around a year to realize that I remind her of my douchebag of a father. So I went to the eye doctor and when I found out I had astigmatism, I asked for colored contacts instead of glasses, but they weren't cheap. It took me a couple of years to save up for my first pair of blue contacts. Mom was surprised at first, but she sort of got used to it eventually. Then, I just found out that I can't wear contacts all the time, so before I go to bed I remove them. And I gotta buy new ones. These are expiring soon."

Hermione thought about that for a while, thinking every word through to see if she understood it properly. "So you changed your eye color because you look like…him?"

"Yep."

Hermione was reminded fleetingly of how Snape was reminded of Lily, his first and only love, and James, his worst enemy, every time he looked at Harry. She imagined this happening to Charles's mother, seeing the man he both loathed and loved and at the same time the son that she cherished dearly. It was a difficult task. She had to give his mom some credit.

"There goes fifteen minutes," Charles said as his cellphone began to ring an alarm.

Charles came out of the bathroom with blue eyes again. Hermione sighed, relieved. But she was now forever scarred to know that those weren't his real eyes. She felt haunted that a piece of Harry still followed her around. She cringed and then shoved away the name.

"Let's go," he said. "They'll think I raped you or some other shit."

She stood up and smoothed her clothes. Now that she knew what he'd actually been through, she looked at him and was once more reminded of Harry. As a child, he had so much resting on his shoulders. He had something to hide. He had a duty only he can fulfill. She wiped away the tears that sprang in her eyes before he could see them.

Then she hugged him tight and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm glad you told me," she said honestly. Charles blushed and together they made their way back to their friends.

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Okay, so there you go. Please review in the pretty box. Thank you! I'll try to update my other stories as well :))


	4. Nostalgia

**Chapter 4:** Nostalgia

In the next three years, Hermione was able to forget almost completely about her magical life. She forgot about her wand buried under her clothes in the closet. Eventually, her Gryffindor banners were replaced with NYU. The magical photo that she had tacked to her bed—one of her last connections to her other life—had fallen under the mattress. She dismissed the lack of owls that flew into her room and welcomed the ding of her computer every time she received a new email. She'd stopped switching accents, stopped using her British slang and accent altogether.

It was the first term of their final year at NYU, and Hermione felt nostalgic as she woke up on her first day. She heard a tinkling in the kitchen, and saw Joanna making breakfast, a not-so-unusual sight.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked groggily, as she did every time she would see here. She stood up, put on her fluffy bunny slippers and padded to the bathroom to wash up. The smell of a promising breakfast wafted through the entire apartment.

"Good morning to you too," Joanna replied without looking away from the stove as she deftly flipped a pancake. "I still have my key, you know."

Hermione laughed and shook her head as she was scrubbing her face.

"I felt good when I woke up today," Joanna , adding some pancake batter to the pan. "I thought I'd make us some breakfast."

"Won't you be late for your interview at the World Trade?" she asked, spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste foam.

"I'll get there on time," she shrugged. Hermione smiled at her amazing best friend.

The final pancake landed on the stack and Joanna laid it on the table, which already had some bacon, fried eggs, toast and coffee served.

"Come on, let's eat," she said.

They had breakfast together, laughing about the silliest things and going over Joanna's interview. She had been offered an early internship and a guaranteed job after graduation. It was a great opportunity, and Hermione just listened as she gushed about it, thinking about what would happen to her after school. Will she have to go back to London by then? She'd done successfully with excuses as to why she couldn't go home for the past years that her parents decided on visiting her instead of forcing her to do something that won't happen.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Joanna asked with a laugh. She'd been staring at her the whoel time.

"Look at you, getting a job while we're still in school," Hermione said fondly. They finished breakfast and—to Hermione's insistence about not washing the dishes—got ready to leave.

"Wish me luck," Joanna said with a deep breath, grabbing her bag and trenchcoat.

"Good luck," Hermione sighed, then giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you, Hermione!" she called as she walked briskly down the corridor.

"I love you too," she called.

The nostalgia returned when she was alone and even when she was at school.

Hermione looked around her. She'd changed a lot, but still, a tiny sliver of being still insisted, _It's still so much better at Hogwarts._

There were no weird potions to brew. The fumes came only from the eccentric lab experiments, from the robotics and chemistry departments, and from the expensive perfume or cheap cologne worn by both the students and professors. The scents still felt alien to her. No matter how much she denied it, she knew in her heart that she dearly missed the many-colored smoke from the pewter cauldrons in the dungeons.

There were no weird plants. No pods filled with acidic liquid that caused pus breakout. No crying, overgrown baby roots. No weed that threatened to strangle all passersby but bowed to the sunlight. There were only patches of grass, random bushes, flowerbeds here and there and the occasional tree near concrete benches.

It all still felt alien to her, and she wondered why. Maybe because NYU still felt too…safe. So much safer. She chastised herself for the nostalgia and realized that all she was missing was the trouble, the rule-breaking.

She missed rushing to the library—even cutting class to do so—and knowing where the books she needed were. She missed the nighttime break-ins into the restricted section. She missed grumpy Madam Pince, who was rather nice to her and was a harpy to everyone else.

She missed watching Quidditch. The chants of "Go! Go! Gryffindor!" The looks of awe in everyone's faces as she presented a Muggle item or Muggle food. She missed the boys fighting over her sandwiches, which Seamus, Neville and Ron claimed to be "exotic" and Harry and Dean claimed to be "homey." She missed the fighting over whatever food her parents sent her, because they were weird but delicious nonetheless. She missed sneaking out food from the kitchens and having private study picnics by herself.

She missed the lake. The huge, fathoms-deep lake. The one she got stuck in back in 4th year. The one teeming with oddly familiar creatures. The ponds in NYU held no excitement. She could easily see the bottom and she found only Koi fishes and tadpoles swimming in the murky waters.

But most of all, she missed the _life_ of Hogwarts. The school itself was alive. You could feel the magic radiating from it. She missed the boom of Professor Dumbledore's voice. She missed Snape's slick pronunciation. Even the purr of Mrs Norris prowling through the corridors deep in the night. She missed the hearty cheers and laughs of the Gryffindor Common Room after Fred and George's display of their products.

In Hogwarts, they stuck for seven years. They were one big Gryffindor family. They knew each other well. They'd been part of each other's lives. It was hard to part, but since they were a family, she knew they'd never forget each other. They would _always_ be there for each other. In NYU, she was too scared of being attached. She knew they'd leave too soon.

And she realized, she'd been pretending the past three years. She'd basically lied to herself and her friends. Creating an image of a strong, independent Hermione when deep inside, she really was homesick.

"What's on your mind?" Charles asked plopping down next to her on a dry patch of grass. He grabbed a handful of chips from her and waited.

"It seems too early for goodbye," she breathed.

"Who's saying goodbye?"

"Dude, in case you haven't noticed, our four years are almost up," Hermione pointed out. Charles continued to stare.

"Holy shit, I missed that part in the enrolment form where it says we're already seniors."

Hermione managed a weak smile as she pulled on blades of grass.

"Look, stop being so dramatic. I should be the one doing all the nostalgia and shit," he said. "I'm staying here and you're going to go back to London. Joanna's gonna be some big shit Historian sooner or later and she'll be travelling around."

"Not my point," Hermione replied. "Remember how Brown is smothering you with all their benefits and scholarship offers just so you'd enroll there? This is much worse, coz now this is really gonna happen."

"Why would you be sad about leaving me behind?" Charles asked. "I thought you hated me?"

"You're like my brother," Hermione scoffed. "I'm _supposed_ to hate you."

They laughed for a while, and soon Charles was somber as well.

"Your nostalgia bug bit me," he said. "I don't wanna think about leaving."

"I don't think I _can_ leave," Hermione said. She thought about that, and it brought her back to the day she left Hogwarts. Tears slowly welled up in her eyes traitorously.

He smiled cockily. "Why do you cry over that stuff?"

"I dunno," she shrugged. She started crying harder and she was annoyed at herself for getting too attached to people easily.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked after a few moments, rubbing circles on Hermione's back to comfort her. She nodded and he smiled. It had all been a waste, those three years of trying to forget. She can never forget Hogwarts. And now she had to leave another family.

"Now come on. Let's go cook something," he said. He offered his hand and Hermione stood up, removing the grass on her jeans. She wiped her tears away and tried to calm down.

On the way to Hermione's dorm, they passed by an appliance store which was crowded by people watching the news. They tried to squeeze in to see what was going on. Hermione got a glimpse of the smoking twin towers and immediately she knew.


	5. The 911

Hello everyone! I'm back :))

* * *

**Chapter 5**: The 9-11

* * *

Then she noticed a familiar pattern in the smoke. It was there for just a couple of seconds, but she knew.

Hermione's face fell pale. Her breathing came in short gasps. Then in one burst, she mustered all her energy and bolted away from the store.

"Hermione, where are you going?" Charles called, running after her.

"I'll call you later," Hermione shouted. "Go back to your dorm and _stay there_. Do not let _anyone_ go out. Gather everyone. _Stick together._ I will come for you." The overprotectiveness washed over Hermione.

_No. No. This is not happening. This can't be happening._

She made a mad dash for her dorm building. She had hoped with all hope that she wouldn't have any reason at all to do this, but quite frankly, she had no choice. Now was the time.

This was worse than the final battle because now they were attacking defenseless people. People who didn't know that they existed. Their final memory would be a blinding flash of green light or the thought of "It's real!" She had to be quick. She had to save as many lives as possible. Catch as many Death Eaters as she could. How they reached New York, she didn't know.

She flipped open her phone and hit the number five on her speed dial. It was a number she thought she'd never use—a speed line to the Order of the Phoenix emergency headquarters.

"Hello?" said the deep soothing and yet firm voice from the other line. Hermione's heart filled with warmth and her knees buckled as tears stung the back of her eyes.

"Kingsley," she said. "Code red. The Death Eaters—I don't know how many yet—they're here—in New York, at the World Trade."

"We'll be there in half an hour," he replied. "We'll meet you there."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, okay. I'll see you." Hermione pocketed her phone and began rummaging through her closet. First, she looked for her shrunken Hogwarts chest, which she brought in case of emergencies like this. She'd been willing to forget, but she wasn't entirely daft. Then she found her wand, which sent shivers down her spine as the vine connected with her skin.

"Engorgio!" Her wand seemed to have felt the urgency in Hermione and the trunk blew to normal size. She grabbed her Beginner's Firebolt, which was a gift from Draco some years ago, and returned it to normal size, and her Potions kit which she stocked before leaving London. She cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and the broom before sticking it in her boot and kicking off the ground.

She vanished the window as soon as she reached the building and flew right in, near the area of impact. There was a sight she never thought she'd see again.

Bodies were strewn on the floor, and bloody body parts were there as well. Hermione had a strong gut, and was able to resist the urge to vomit almost reflexively. She cast an Air Bubble Charm on herself and began looking around for the Death Eaters. She saw several and were able to Stupefy them, and then levitate them to the ground safely bound.

She looked for anyone who was still alive and also levitated them to the ground. She Obliviated and gave a sleeping draught to those who were still conscious before levitating them to the ground safely. She did all these as fast as she could, but soon she felt that she was going to explode if she did not see Joanna soon.

"_Homenum Revelio!"_ There on the upper floor, was Joanna. The glow on her body was so little. She was dying.

She saw the telltale blue glow as well, and heaved a small sigh of relief. The Order was here.

Hermione dashed to the upper floor, where she found Joanna half-buried in debris. Tears flowed down her cheeks, both of anger and despair. She was barely conscious, but she did not care about the Statute of Secrecy right now.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" she said forcefully. The debris lifted and she threw them to the other side of the room where they landed with a loud crash. She approached her with a determined smile and she saw the deep gash on her stomach.

She knew there was nothing she could do to save her. There was no complicated charm or complex potion that can save anyone who is willing to die. And that was what Hermione saw on Joanna's face. She was wearing an ethereal smile as she looked up at Hermione like she was her angel. Magic was powerful, but was not the most powerful force on earth.

Joanna was still breathing, but only just. Hermione lay down beside her and hoisted her up her body.

"I knew you'd come," Joanna breathed when she hugged her. Hermione could now see that there were gashes up her arms and on her face. "I knew…you'd be here…" she smiled.

"Stop talking, I' mgoing to tell you something," Hermione scolded as she willed herself not to break into hysteric sobs. She didn't even realize that she'd reverted back to her British accent. She took out her wand an performed Lumos. "I'm a witch." Joanna's smile widened.

"I knew it," she whispered. "Hermione… I haven't been truthful to you as well. I became a History major…because…I wanted to research on whether or not…witches and wizards were real…When I was a kid…I was going to get run over by a train…and someone took out…a…a…a _wand_…and saved me. I never…stopped…believing…and now…here you are…my guardian angel."

"I came from a magic school in London," Hermione said. "This was caused by some of my kind. Joanna, I'm so so sorry. I would save you right now if I could."

"But you can't," Joanna said. "Save someone else. It's okay. _C'est la vie_. I'm not…afraid of death…Death should be afraid…of me."

Hermione managed something between a chuckle and a sob. She hovered her wand tip over Joanna's body and cried harder when she found out she only had moments to live.

"Listen," Hermione whispered. "I love you, okay? So, so much. You're like…my American twin sister."

Joanna smiled. "I love you too. And you know what? At least I…managed to complete…my bucket list…before this." She winced. Hermione clutched her tighter.

"One, I met my guardian angel," she breathed. "Two…I completed my life's research…Three…I met my other half…and four…I'm a part of History."

Hermione began weeping openly as she kissed Joanna's forehead over and over.

"Tell them," Joanna continued. "That I love all of them. That I'm sorry…for not making it until graduation. And…I'll be back."

Hermione smiled again. A trickle of blood dripped from Joanna's mouth.

"How will I tell them that?" Hermione asked.

"You're…Brightest Witch of Your Age," Joanna breathed, caressing her face and reaching up to kiss her forehead lightly. "You'll figure something out."

Hermione cried and shook her head hysterically.

"I'm sorry for missing your birthday," Joanna barely whispered.

And with one final sigh she was gone.

"I'm sorry," Hermione cried as she hugged her dead body. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."

"Hermione?" an all-too-familiar voice called from behind her. She gently let Joanna's body down.

"Ginny," she sobbed. Then she ran and hugged her other best friend tightly. "She's gone. She's gone. I couldn't do anything."

"I know," Ginny said. Tears began flowing down her cheeks as she saw how broken Hermione had become.

* * *

So there :))

Okay, off to a shameless plug.

If any of you have been watching the world news, I guess you know the condition in the Philippines right now. It's been raining hard for three days (today it finally stopped) and most of Manila is under water. A lot of families had to be evacuated and it's been really difficult to go out of the house because of the flood. In some places it's chest-high, in others it's more than six feet. In my place the flood has finally receded (after three days) and we're cleaning up.

So I hope you guys can donate, and to those who live near Manila, or in Ermita in Manila, UP Manila is open for your donations. Relief donations can be in from of bottled water, meds and food. Just drop by at the College of Nursing.

Thank you! And thanks for reading :)))


	6. Lost and Found

Heyyy y'all! Been too long don'tcha think? So I'm back!

And this here chappy was one I did ages ago and forgot to post. So here y'all are :D

Second term is about to begin, so I don't think the updates will be as often as I like. :(

* * *

**Chapter 6:** Lost and Found

* * *

Ginny stayed with Hermione for the rest of the week. Kingsley and Ron had to go to Washington to sort things out with the President of the US. Harry didn't make it to New York. He was on a mission in Asia, and for this Hermione was a bit grateful.

Hermione woke up each day, hoping that the sound in the kitchen was Joanna cooking, but to her dismay, it was always Ginny.

When they left, nothing in Hermione had changed. She was basically lifeless. Sure, she had her usual friends and they were there for her, but she missed Joanna horribly. She missed her barging into her dorm and claiming that she can do whatever she wants since she was its ex-owner. She missed the late nights they spent talking about getting blown-off by her latest boyfriend. She missed her weird laugh. She missed their dates at Starbucks every 12th of the month. She missed their lunches at the Met. Most of the time, she'd just mope around in her dorm after class, looking around and imagining her in it.

On weekdays she would do her schoolwork in a robotic routine. There was no more of that learning spirit Hermione possessed. She just did as was told. On weekends, she would stay in her dormitory and just lie down on her bed, constantly arguing with herself whether or not it was her fault that Joanna was gone.

Nothing changed six months after the incident. Hermione was doing nothing as usual when someone knocked on her door and entered. There was only one person left who was allowed to do that. And no matter how hard some part of her brain insisted it was Joanna, she knew it was Charles.

Charles looked at Hermione and heaved a sigh. He sat down on her bed and smoothed her hair.

"How are you?" he asked. Hermione shrugged, indicating that she felt no different from the first time he asked her that question after the 9/11. Charles wouldn't give up. He pressed on.

"Professor Hart talked to me today," he began. Hermione kept quiet and stared on. Charles took this as a sign to continue. "He…found out that I'd been sitting in his Linguistics class since the beginning of the sem."

At this, Hermione perked up. She had no more intention of losing anyone else. She turned around so that she was lying on her back and looking up at him. _Continue_, her eyes said. Charles sat up properly, happy that he finally got a reaction from her.

"He told me he won't tell the admin…as long as I talk to you," he said.

"About what?" Hermione asked, her voice thick from lack of use. Charles lifted her arm gingerly as if it were made of glass.

"It's been months, 'Mione. We have to move on. You have to stop this insanity," Charles said sadly.

Hermione shook her head repeatedly as tears started to well up in her eyes.

"You don't understand," she said, choking on a sob. "I lost a sister. There were too many people…I saw them, Charles! I heard them crying. I saw their blood on the ground! They were helpless! And I…I couldn't—didn't—do anything to help them!"

"Hermione," Charles whispered. "It wasn't in your power."

"If only you knew, Charles," she replied, crying. "If only you knew." She was on the verge of telling him her secret, but there was no valid reason to do so. She could face a court trial.

"I lost a sister that day too, Hermione," Charles said. He was now crying as well. "I lost a lot of friends. I don't want to lose you to that tragedy as well. You're hiding something from me, Hermione."

Hermione was quiet, but Charles stared at her determinedly.

"Fine," Hermione finally said angrily. "I was lying. _All_ the time. All the time you've ever asked me if I was okay, I was lying. I feel _miserable_. And somehow, for a while, you guys made it bearable for me to live everyday. But then—" sobs racked through her body again "—then it happened! And now I don't know if I should regret coming here. Maybe if I hadn't come here it wouldn't have happened."

"Stop blaming yourself Hermione!" Charles scolded. Hermione shook her head as she cried. _If only you knew,_ she thought. Then he hugged her tightly.

"Ssh," he whispered in her ear consolingly. "You're just homesick."

When she'd calmed down enough, Hermione found herself telling Charles everything sans magic. He told him about the real reason why she's in NYU.

"I could have gone to university in London," Hermione said. "I'd gotten into several good ones too. But I also got in here. One night I sat down to choose. I could get a new start. Breathe a different kind of air. Not think of him and how easily I could call him up. NYU was my chance to finally move on. So I grabbed it."

"And now you're still upset," Charles remarked. "Seriously, I want to hunt him down and jab him at least once."

Hermione shook her head. "It's partially my fault. I shouldn't have forced myself to look for a distraction. I should have just let it come. Now I dragged you into this emotional mess." She shook her head again. "Look at me now. I'm worse than a train wreck."

He studied her carefully as she wiped her tears. Hermione stared at him and wished that she could stop telling him the half-truths.

"You _are_," he said, chuckling. "But I wouldn't love you if you changed."

Hermione smiled as Charles faltered. He figured that if Hermione could be honest to him, then he should be honest to her too.

"Do you know what the last thing Joanna said to me was?" Charles asked. Hermione shook her head.

"She said, 'I've seen the way you look at her. Don't let her go.'" Then he closed the distance between them and their lips met in a short and sweet kiss. After that, Charles stood up and left.


	7. Manifestations

**Chapter 7:** Manifestations

* * *

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, our class valedictorian, and summa cum laude, Miss Hermione Granger."

The audience clapped and cheered and Hermione stood up from her seat. Hermione cleared her throat and looked out into the audience.

"Four years ago, I faced one of the biggest decisions of my life," she began. "Should I go to Oxford…or NYU? It was not easy. It was like choosing between home and an adventure. So after five minutes I started writing my rejection letter to Oxford.

"I came here and I was so scared. I thought I was ready. Then this guy comes up, steals my taxi and tells me something I will _never_ forget.

"'If you think everyone should treat you like a perfect lady, then you're in for a rude awakening.' He was right.

"I almost thought I'll never get here, what with what happened last year. But instead of continuing to dwell on it, to live in fear of it, I chose to let go of that fear and just… let it inspire me instead.

"I know everyone here has had a moment where they felt scared, or that things will never get better again. But if there's something I've learned from the 9-11, it's this; that there will be people who'll want to help us, if they see that we want to help ourselves. There will be people who will always have your back, when you know that you also have theirs. We can all slay the Jabberwocky.

"That is what NYU taught me. To stop being scared and blaming yourself for the things that you can't control. Accidents do happen. There are just times when nobody has to take the blame.

"I've been through so much that I thought nothing could scare me anymore. But the thing is, fear will always be there, and if you can't control the situation, then at least control the fear.

"So after this ceremony, after all the medals and the diplomas have been handed out, after all the tassels have been turned, after all the caps have been thrown. I hope you would remember at least this: when we all go out there, there is nothing to fear. NYU has equipped us with everything we need, the knowledge, the skills, the experience and most importantly, the people who'll support us. If Alice was able to accomplish five impossible things before breakfast, tehn why not us?

"In line with that, I would like to announce that… I am throwing caution to the wind. I am postponing my studies for masters. Like the saying, practice what you preach. I would like to go out of the four walls of the classroom and try out the real world.

"I would like to thank everyone who has brought me here, to my journey of self-discovery, of finally removing my fear of fear. My professors, my classmates, my friends, I will never forget your contribution to my life.

"Congratulations to us all and good afternoon."

The audience gave a deafening round of applause as Hermione finished her speech and resumed her seat.

"That was a great speech," Charles said after the ceremony, hooking an arm around her waist.

"Well, it's all true," she replied.

They strolled together in silence, and when they were in a quieter part of the field, Hermione spoke again.

"Listen. I've been thinking…"

"About what?"

"A lot of things," she replied. "And all I have to say for now…is yes."

Charles's face fell and distorted into a look of confusion. "Yes?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean yes?"

"You," Hermione said, putting a finger in his nose, "figure it out," she grabbed his tie, "yourself," and gave him a peck on the lips.

As she began walking away, Charles's brain processed everything that just happened. His mind clicked.

"Yes you'll be my girlfriend?"

Hermione stopped walking and looked at him coyly. "Yes, I'll be your girlfriend."

Charles launched himself at her and lifted her off her feet, spinning her around.

"She said yes!" Charles screamed triumphantly/ He set her down and kissed her victoriously on the lips.

5 Years Later…

She was winning.

She'd started a staring contest with a blank document on her computer, and she was winning. The thin line was blinking restlessly, prompting her to write.

_Come on, Mione, or you'll have your editor to deal with._

A single sentence wrote itself in her mind, and as she was typing almost maniacally, she heard someone open the door.

"Hey, babe," Charles said, entering. He was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. "These came in for you." He gave her the flowers and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"They're lovely," Hermione replied after smelling them appreciatively. "Thank you."

"Oh they're not from me," Charles said immediately. "There's a card though."

Hermione found the heavy ivory envelope and opened it. It contained a single smiley face and a caricature of a pig with spots.

"Pig spots again?" Charles asked with a hint of jealousy. "That's the largest bouquet so far."

"Jealous are we?" Hermione said, reaching up and kissing him on the nose. "It's probably just a fan."

Hermione had made a name for herself by being a writer, a weekly correspondent for a lifestyle column in the New York Times. All week someone has been sending her flowers, starting with a single long-stemmed rose and a card that always had that drawing of a spotted pig. She'd never had much time to dwell on it since she as too busy.

"Lunch?" Charles offered. Hermione smiled at him gratefully and grabbed her purse.

Later that afternoon, Charles dropped Hermione off to her apartment. She entered the building as Charles drove away and looked for a flower vase as soon as she entered her apartment.

She collected all the cards from all the flowers and put them on her coffee table side by side. The cards contained different emoticons and that same caricature of the spotted pig. She stared at the cards and noticed something…different. On each pig was a square-ish spot, which seemed different in every card. She grabbed one card and inspected it carefully. The symbol was familiar. It was something that she remembered seeing with a dim warm light in the fireplace while she was sitting in a room of red and gold.

It was an ancient rune.

She hurried to her bookcase immediately and looked for her Ancient Runes textbook. She put in on her coffee table and started searching for the runes.

The first card had a rune for the word "eye." The second rune meant "will." The third, fourth and fifth read "see," you" and "soon" respectively.

But who could have the flowers been from?

She looked at the card again and mentally slapped herself fir not noticing it immediately. The caricature was a pig with spots. A _hog_ with _warts_. _Hogwarts_.

Someone from Hogwarts was coming to see her.

But who could it be? She hadn't known someone else in her year who took up Ancient Runes. Maybe someone who studied it for professional reasons, like a Gringotst curse breaker or an Unspeakable or someone who works in the Accidental Magic Reversal squad or… or…

_An Auror._

And in that moment, her doorbell rang.


	8. The Comeback: Part 2

**Chapter 8:** The Comeback- Part 2

* * *

Hermione opened the door and was greeted by the largest, sweetest-smelling, most beautiful floral arrangement.

"Does a Miss Granger live here?" the delivery person asked, his face covered by the huge bouquet. Hermione was a bit disappointed. She'd expected someone from Hogwarts.

"Y-Yes," Hermione replied shakily.

"Aha, so I stalked you right," he said.

It was Harry.

Hermione's face fell pale and her palms started sweating. Her heartbeat quickened.

"Harry," she squeaked. She nearly attacked him with a hug before remembering that not only was Harry the reason why she was here, but also because of the flowers. "C-Come in."

Harry entered and set the flowers down on the nearest space possible. _Then_ she attacked him with a hug. Tears stung in her eyes.

"It's so good to see you," she said.

"Someone missed me," Harry said, hugging her back with just as much gusto. They held their embrace for a full minute. He was the same to her; same smell, same smile, same feeling, same warmth. When they finally let go, she wiped the tears at the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry, it's just…it's been so long. Can I get you anything? Coke? Coffee? Tea? Anything to eat?"

"Coke's fine," he replied, sitting down on the couch.

Hermione fiddled in the kitchen for a while, taking longer than usual because her hands were shaking so much. She emerged with a tray of snacks and two glasses of Coke. She sat down opposite him and stared.

She took in his form. He was much, much more muscular, with wonderfully toned arms and strong shoulders. From the way the shirt covered him, she assumed that he had a six-pack as well. His hair was cropped short, with a few wisps covering his forehead partially.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said again, breaking her stare. "It's just been too long and you barely changed."

"Well, I can't say the same for you," he said. "I mean, you're still the Hermione I've known since we were eleven, but you're…noticeably prettier."

At this, Hermione blushed. "I hope that's a good thing," she said, feeling uncomfortable. She decided to change the course of the conversation. She grinned at him and said, "Quite the stalker you are."

He grinned back. "It's one thing we Aurors were taught," he replied. "Besides, it's really not difficult to stalk a famous columnist for one of the world's most famous newspapers."

"Aren't you busy saving the Wizarding World from Dark wizards, Auror Potter?" she teased.

"I just finished my internship. I'm getting time of before getting inducted into Aurorship," he explained.

"Internship? Surely not!" she said teasingly.

"Having 'destroyed Lord Voldemort' on my CV helped, but still didn't get me out of the internship," Harry said. "But they _did_ throw me in good cases. I'm sorry I missed the 9-11. It was over when I found out." He grasped her hand gently and sparks shot through her. She cleared her throat and he let go. Harry shuffled in his seat uncomfortably.

"Enough about me," he said. "What's up with you?"

"Well, I still have half a mind about leaving my job to continue my masters back at home…" she trailed off thoughtfully. "I'm really having fun here. And I think—"

Her doorbell rang.

"Hey babe," Charles greeted, swooping down to give her a peck on the cheek when she opened the door.

"You could have called to say you were coming, you know," Hermione scolded, forgetting about Harry for a while.

"Surprise?" Charles said lamely. He spotted Harry on the couch and stiffened. "Oh. I didn't realize you had company."

_Oh shit!_ Harry mentally slapped herself. "Charlie, this is—"

"Harry," Harry replied. "Harry Potter. I'm Hermione's friend from er, school."

Charles's eyes narrowed considerably. "So _you're_ the Harry Potter I've heard so much of," Charles replied, shaking his hand.

The two of them sat across each other and Hermione had just finished slapping herself mentally.

"I'll get you a glass," she said, heading to the kitchen. Charles was never good at timing, she realized as she shakily poured a glass of Coke.

She went back to the sofa and sat beside Charles, who wrapped his arm around her waist protectively. She could feel the atmosphere in the room shifting every passing second.

"So, Harry, what do you do?" Charles asked. Hermione glowered at him in a you-better-give-him-a-proper-answer-or-I'll-kill-you way.

"Architecture," Harry replied immediately. "I really haven't gone into anything much lately. I like learning a bit of everything."

"Ah, a jack of all trades," Charles said. "You with a firm?"

"Nope. Freelance," Harry replied.

"Cool," Charles replied approvingly. "We're doing renovations and our architect's not really getting what we want. Okay if I ask you for a second opinion?"

"No problem, that'll be great," Harry replied.

Hermione watched wide-eyed as the two exchanged calling cards. For a moment she'd thought that Charles would lunge at him for the things she'd told him, but here he was basically hiring him. Then realization hit her like a bolt of lightning.

It was so he could keep an eye on him.

"So Harry, how long are you staying anyway?" Hermione asked.

"A few months I guess," he shrugged.

"I'll cook dinner," Hermione offered, standing up.

"No, I already ordered pizza," Charles contradicted.

"How—?"

"You guys should talk," Charles insisted. "Besides, isn't it my sort of duty as your boyfriend to get to know your friends?"

Hermione sat back and smiled. It was a sweet gesture and she appreciated him for the little things like that. Charles kissed her temple.

Later when everyone had left a smile crept to her face.

"What the—?"

But she couldn't help it. Soon, she was covering her mouth to stifle the giggles that were erupting from it. Then a familiar feeling settled itself in her—a feeling that she last experienced before leaving for the States. It made her knees wobbly, her face red and her stomach jittery.

_Oh my God, I can't still be in love with Harry!_

* * *

Hey guys! I'm back!

Second term's begun, and luckily we don't have much work yet so I got to squeeze this in.

Hoping to update soon again :)


	9. The Past Revisiting

Hello! Yes glad to back, but I have to be quick as it is currently the middle of the night here! I apologize for the long wait!

* * *

**Chapter 9:** The Past Revisiting

* * *

_Ring! Ring!_

"Make it stop…"

_Ring! Ring!_

"Make it stop…" Hermione mumbled under the covers.

_RING! RING!_

Hermione groaned. Then she grabbed the phone on her bedside table.

"Hello?" No one was answering. Someone better answer or she'll get cranky. "HELLO?!" She wiped the sleep from her eyes and realized that it was an alarm.

Groggily, she padded toward her bathroom to brush her teeth and take a shower. She'd been sick the past week, and with Charles out of the country, it was a miracle she pulled through.

"Morning, 'Mione," a voice in the kitchen said.

Oh right. Harry had insisted to take care of her. The smell of Harry's famous potato hash was wafting from the pan.

It's been a month since Harry arrived in the States. A week ago, Charles had to leave for a business trip to Prague. He'd asked her to come, but she refused, since she was knee-deep in writing. Harry took this as the appropriate time to catch up. Unfortunately, she got sick with colds after going out to the airport and spending an hour in the rain waiting for a cab. She hadn't Apparated in years and wasn't going to take the risk.

"That smells wonderful," she remarked, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She took a blissful sip and sighed.

"You sound better," Harry said.

"Feel better too," she replied, taking another sip. "I might not let you go back to Auror training. I'm starting to get used to the idea of you taking care of me when I'm sick."

Harry smiled to himself at her comment. _Harry-1, Charles-0_.

"_Bon appetit," _Harry said with quite a convincing French accent as he served Hermione a breakfast plate piled with potato hash, mini pancakes, eggs and bacon.

"I feel like I'm back home," she sighed after taking a bite.

"Charles is coming back tomorrow, isn't he?" Harry asked.

"Yep."

"Would it be so bad if we go out to dinner?" Harry suggested.

"No, actually, that's a good idea. When and where?"

"I'll take care of it."

"Okay," Hermione replied, surprised by Harry's enthusiasm.

"Great," Harry said. "Now if you excuse me, I have dinner plans to make." He stood up, and waved his wand. His things arranged themselves neatly in his bag and it shut itself tight.

"I don't know how to thank you," Hermione said, hugging his best friend tightly.

"Do me a favor and stop trying to forget who you really are." He flicked his wand again and an object zoomed into Harry's hand. It was her Prefect badge. "You are a _witch._ The Brightest Witch of Her Age, Don't you dare forget." He kissed her on the cheek. "See you tomorrow night." He spun on the spot and with a loud crack, he was gone.

Hermione went back to her room after loading the dishwasher and opened her bedside table. She took out a long, narrow velvet box with her initials written in gold on top. She gingerly opened the case and took out the wand. An electric shock ran through her body.

"I missed you too."

Hermione spent the day reacquainting with her old friend. She redecorated her bedroom and charmed the broom, the vacuum and the mop to clean her apartment. She dug into her closet and unearthed the box labeled "Hogwarts." She then set to work putting up all her Gryffindor banners and filling a large corkboard with moving photos.

She smiled, admiring her work. Ginny, Draco, Ron, Harry, Luna and a bunch of her other friends smiled and waved back at her. She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and did one last thing.

"_Engorgio_," she muttered. Her old school trunk blew up to its normal size. She retrieved several items from it: her Gryffindor scarf, a framed photo of herself with her parents, and Draco's photo of her looking out of the Heads' dorm. She blew this up and hung it above her bed. Now her redecoration was complete.

"_Finite,_" the cleaning materials dropped back to the ground, lifeless. She smiled to herself.

* * *

Hermione arrived at JFK just as Charles was appearing through the arrival gate.

"Hello," he said, giving her a kiss on the lips. "How are you?"

"M'okay," she replied. "Got sick. Harry took care of me."

Charles stiffened a bit. "I'll have to thank him, then."

"He's not competition, Charles," Hermione chastised. "He's my best friend. Speaking of Harry, he invited us out to dinner tonight."

"Where?"

"He didn't say."

The couple went back to Hermione's car. Charles loaded his things in the backseat while Hermione gave Harry a call.

"So, where are we supposed to go?" Hermione asked when he answered.

"It's a surprise," Harry replied. "I charmed your GPS. Just pretend you're actually driving."

Hermione sighed. Trust Harry to come up with surprises. "Okay, I'll see you wherever."

"Bye. Drive safe."

Hermione sniggered. "Yeah, right."

"Ready to go?" Charles asked, snaking a hand around her waist. He held out his palm, asking for the car keys. "Where to, ma'am?"

"Actually, I'm driving," Hermione said, looking pointedly at Charles, who eventually climbed in the front seat.

They stopped in front of Stanton Social in Lower East Side. Hermione had heard of the place before, having been a food columnist for a while.

"Good evening, welcome to Stanton Social," the waiter said. "Reservation name?"

"Potter," Hermione replied.

"Follow me," the waiter said. They were led to a private booth at the farthest corner of the restaurant. The table was large enough for ten people.

"Are you ready to order?"

"We're waiting for someone else," Hermione said.

"Okay, call me when you're ready," the waiter replied, leaving with a smile.

"Why did Harry get a huge table?" Hermione wondered, sliding into the seat.

"Because Harry might have invited other people, don't you think, Granger?" a familiar voice drawled.

Hermione looked up in surprise and saw Draco, Luna, Ginny and Ron smiling brightly at her.

"Oh my gosh!" she squealed, standing up and hugging each one very tightly.

"You sneaky bastard," Hermione said when Harry finally arrived at the table.

"Uh, surprise?" he said lamely.

All of them settled down.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Why what?" Ginny asked.

"Why are you all here?"

"Charles, can I talk to you for a moment? I have a proposal for you regarding the renovations," Harry interjected.

"Sure," he replied. "Be back in a sec, babe." He gave Hermione a swift kiss on the lips.

Everyone (except Harry who kept babbling on about shapes and models) was quiet as they walked away. When Harry and Charles were out of earshot, the rest of them turned to look at Hermione.

"How much does he know?" Ginny asked.

"Everything except anything that could send me to Azkaban," she replied.

"Good, nothing then," Ginny said.

"No reason for me to Obliviate him and take you to Azkaban," Ron said.

"However, we're not here just to see you," Luna said. She retrieved a parchment envelope from her pocket and handed it to Hermione.

She saw the Ministry stamp on the envelope's flap and opened it, wondering what the Ministry needed from her now.

_Miss Granger,_

_Your request has been reviewed by the Ministry of Magic._

_We have determined that you have been in an intimate interpersonal relationship with a Muggle who is not part of your immediate family for five years, one month, three weeks and two days._

_As per Ministry regulation, a witch/wizard is not allowed to divest partially and/or fully his/her magical capabilities to a Muggle, the term being defined as anyone who is of Muggle parentage and lacking magical capabilities. Any witch/wizard to break this law shall be sentenced for life at Azkaban._

_However, the Ministry has monitored your past and present interactions with a Muggle by the name Charles Jameson._

_After careful deliberation and congress by the Wizengamot, you are hereby given permission to divulge your true identity to Muggle Charles Jameson and to no one else._

_Your Ministry thanks you._

_Sincerely,_

_Erik Gobblehopper_

_Muggle Communications Officer, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

A seal located at the bottom of the parchment slowly faded into the word ACTIVATED.

Hermione put down the letter thoughtfully. She'd sent the appeal only yesterday. Why did it come so quickly?

"Tell him," Ginny said.

"I only sent this in yesterday," Hermione said.

"Well, I saw it and five of us were able to rush it," Ron said. "Tell him."

"What and scare him off?" Hermione said incredulously. "Besides, it's not like he'll believe me."

"It's not like you can't show him," Draco scoffed. "One of these days, he'll see you levitating a sofa to clean the floor, or see one of the moving photos. Besides, you know how dangerous it is to keep your magic all bottled up like that."

Hermione sighed in defeat.

"You don't have to do it right now," Ron said. "But I'd appreciate if I don't have to stick with my current story the next time we see him."

"Ready to order?" Harry suddenly said, appearing with Charles in tow.

"How was it?" Hermione asked after Charles slipped in the seat next to her.

"Mind-blowing," Charles replied. "I'm almost sure that this guy can do magic."

Everyone at the table laughed at what seemed like a harmless joke to Charles. Their previous waiter arrived and took their order. The place was known for dishes that were meant to be shared, so it was perfect for them.

"So what do you guys do?" Charles asked.

"Corporate affairs," Draco replied confidently. "I run our family business back in London." This was true.

"I'm studying Biology in Cambridge," Luna said. "Minor in Zoology."

"Cambridge—wow."

"Criminology graduate," Ron said. He'd been told that this was the Muggle version of being an Auror. "I work with our version of the CSI."

"I usually train kids to play football," Ginny said. "Sometimes I also freelance along with Harry."

"That's great," Charles replied.

Their food arrived soon and they continued with their banter. Charles seemed very at ease with the group and it made Hermione very happy. She nearly forgot the parchment letter tucked in her pocket and her room full of moving photos.

* * *

After dinner, momentary goodbyes, plans for a follow-up dinner one week from now and several witches and wizards throwing her the look before leaving, Hermione found herself alone with Charles and one spell away from her true identity.

All her worries flew out the window when Charles grabbed her and started kissing her as soon as she opened the door to her flat.

"Excited, are we?" Hermione purred.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," Charles replied in a sexy voice.

They continued their make out session on Hermione's couch. See, this was the reason Hermione loved it here. There were no barriers. She lived a normal, albeit anything but simple life.

Things got heated very quickly. Charles was starting to undo the buttons on Hermione's blouse.

"Let's go to your room," Charles suggested.

And that's when everything fell back into place. Hermione's eyes flew wide open and suddenly the parchment envelope made itself known in her pocket. She started to pull Charles away.

"What's the matter, babe?" he asked, puzzled. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No, it's not that," Hermione replied. She sighed. They were right. She had to do this. If she didn't do it now, she might not do so until he found out himself. And then he would run away and never speak to her again, let alone see her. "I have something to tell you."

Charles brow furrowed in a mix of confusion, anger and worry.

"It has nothing to do with Harry," Hermione said with a laugh rolling her eyes. The anger faded from Charles's expression, replaced by a sheepish apologetic smile. "It has something to do…with me."

Hermione redid the buttons on her blouse. Charles, ever the gentleman, waited patiently for her to continue what she was saying on one side of the couch. Hermione lifted her jeans, and there, strapped along her calf was her wand holster. Charles smiled, wondering what this was all about. Hermione gently pulled out her wand.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked.

"Uh, a stick?" Charles replied sarcastically.

"Funny," Hermione remarked. "Where have you seen anything similar to this before?"

Charles thought for a moment. "A…magic show, I guess."

Hermione smiled. He was such bright man.

"Promise me something," she said.

"Anything."

"Promise me that you will listen and that you will keep an open mind. Promise me that you won't laugh or run away. Promise me that after this, nothing will change."

"You sound pretty serious right now, babe," Charles said. "Come on, I don't understand how a stick can come between us."

"It's not about the stick," Hermione said. "It's what I can do with it."

"Hermione, what are you—?"

"_Wingardium Leviosa,_" Hermione said in an almost whisper, pointing her wand at her jacket. She then directed it to hang itself on of the hooks at the back of her front door.

Charles gaped as the garment traveled on its own across the room. "Wha—what…how…?"

"I'm a witch," she said. "Well, not the evil, lives-in-a-candy-house-and-eats-little-kids kinda way. I'm more like…Galinda and Elphaba. I just know how to do magic. And I mean, real magic. Not illusions."

Charles was speechless for a while. "Can you do that again?"

"What, this?" Hermione performed the Levitation charm mentally on the coffee table.

"Oh. My God," Charles said. "You're frigging serious right now?"

Hermione shrugged. "Yeah. I am."

"Okay, give me a sec."

Hermione braced herself when Charles stood up. She thought he would go and start taking the stuff which he normally left here, but instead went to the balcony. Next thing Hermione knew, he was screaming on top of his lungs.

"THAT WAS INSANE!" he screamed. He then started beating his fists on the metal railing, causing bruises to appear.

"Are you crazy right now? Come here," Hermione ordered. She put Charles's hand in hers and performed a quick cooling charm and a healing spell. "Better?"

"Yes," Charles managed to choke out.

"Ready for more?" she asked, grasping the doorknob on her bedroom door. He only nodded. Hermione made a show of opening the door.

"Whoa," Charles managed to choke out, seeing the moving photos which smiled and waved back at him, the animated banner and the other charmed things on her desk. Hermione took out her copy of _A Revised History of Hogwarts_ and handed it to Charles.

"Read up," Hermione said. "Everything's in there."

* * *

Later that night Hermione felt like a huge weight was lifted off her chest. Charles didn't run away. He truly loved and respected her whether she was the Brightest Witch of Her Age or the weekend columnist in the New York Times. Charles decided not to go home in case he had any more questions for her, however they postponed sex that night so that they could cuddle and talk more about the life that Hermione had hidden away for so long.

Charles was sleeping peacefully beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist protectively in a spooning position. What kept her up were not the possible onslaught of questions Charles might have for her the following day (or days) but a random thought that wouldn't go away.

Hermione felt that revealing her true self to him was sort of like removing a mask she'd had on for so long. And that made her think, what about Charles? If they were to get married, he would eventually have to remove his contacts. What if on the night of their wedding day, he didn't see Charles?

What if she stays in love with Charles only because he reminds her of Harry?

* * *

Be back soon (I hope)! Thanks for reading. Please review!


	10. What Happens At Dinner

It is SO great to be back!

* * *

Chapter 10: What Happens at Dinner

* * *

Her life returned to normal after that. Well, as normal as it could possibly be. Luna and Ginny dragged her around Upper East Side while Ron asked to go out to lunch in Brooklyn. She accompanied Harry to go see the Empire State building and Draco to Wall Street. By the end of the week, Hermione had managed to see more of New York than she had before they came. She'd been thrown into schoolwork and then the 9/11 and then her career in rapid succession that she'd forgotten to enjoy being a tourist.

On the day of their follow-up dinner, Hermione decided to visit Ground Zero, the site of the World Trade bombing. Charles had been acting weird the whole week and so she asked harry to come with her instead. The rest wanted to see the Wizarding side of New York anyway. They decided to separate and meet up at Broadway to watch Wicked before dinner.

"We're here," Hermione announced, feeling a small lump build inside her throat. It was the first time since the incident itself that she visited the site.

"Death Eaters?" Harry asked. "They caused the 9/11?"

"Yeah," Hermione replied, walking beside the wall which held the names of the casualties if the tragedy. "They said you were working on something important so you couldn't come."

"I was," Harry nodded. He followed her wordlessly. Hermione continued to walk, feeling all of the emotions she'd felt on that day.

"It was the one time," she whispered, her breath hitching.

"Sorry?"

Hermione caressed a name on the wall. "The one time I used magic since I left," she clarified. "My best friend—she'd been here for an interview."

"Joanna Anderson," Harry read out loud the name she'd been holding.

"She was very lovely," she said fondly. "A bit like all of you, really. Sarcastic, like Draco; quirky, like Luna; straightforward, like Ron; reckless, like Ginny; and caring…like you."

Harry smiled.

"She also had that saving-people-thing in her," Hermione added with a laugh. "She was a graduating History major. Several companies had heard of her and wanted her on archaeological trips and research ventures.

"Charles and I were juniors, stuck in NYU. We saw the news and…I knew I had to come," Hermione finished, her voice cracking a little. Harry laced his fingers through hers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "It was lucky that Draco gave me that beginner's Firebolt."

"Did you find her?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "She'd been hit by debris. I tried to heal her, but it wasn't enough. And she didn't want me to waste my potion on her since she was a—hopeless case. I wanted to get her out, but it was too risky to move her.

"Instead, I told her who I was. She told me to stop worrying and save other people instead. She told me that she didn't hate me even though it was Death Eaters that caused all of it. A wizard had saved her when she was young and she was happy to…go after meeting and thanking another one."

Hermione began crying freely. It was lucky that Harry was there to catch her when her knees started to buckle.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Hermione," Harry comforted, drawing circles on her back. "It's not your fault. You managed to save more people. And you managed to tell her the truth."

She held on tighter to him, his words comforting her. In that moment, she was able to forgive Harry for not turning up when she needed him the most.

* * *

"That was fun," Ginny said when they were seated in a restaurant at Queens.

"Yeah, I can't believe Muggles think we're like that," Draco replied. "Seriously. I have not seen that much glitter in my life."

"To be honest, Draco, no one even believes that you guys exist, so that's Broadway imagination for you," Charles said truthfully.

Their waiter arrived and after giving their orders, Charles began asking questions like he was the Muggle version of Arthur Weasley.

"Can you do wandless magic?" he asked.

"Yes, but it takes years to master," Draco replied.

"Can you fly?"

"On a broomstick, yes," Ginny replied.

"Wait, what are your actual jobs then?"

"I'm an Auror," Ron replied. "Sort of like a wizard policeman."

"Naturalist," Luna replied. "I find almost unknown and unheard-of creatures and plants."

"I play Quidditch," Ginny replied. "It's like soccer on broomsticks. Also a consulting Auror."

"Mine was the only real job," Draco replied.

"And is it true that you all saved the wizarding world?"

Feeling modest, they just nodded.

Ginny was regaling Charles with stories of Quidditch when their food arrived.

"I'm so glad that we had this time together," Charles said after their plates had been cleared. "I just…I'm just so happy that Hermione finally had time to meet you guys again. And I'm so glad to have met you. And I uh…sorta have an announcement."

Hermione's blood chilled. He wasn't—? He couldn't!

But he was.

"Hermione Jean Granger," he began. "Also known in New York as Little Miss Priss From London Whose Cab I Stole."

She laughed and tears spilled over her eyes.

"You are my best friend, my girlfriend, my…everything."

On one side of the table, Harry was trying hard to compose himself. This was not how he planned it.

"I have loved you from the day I told you my story. You continue to be the only person I have shared my past with."

Ginny, Luna and Draco smiled. The girls were teary-eyed; finally someone had enough courage to profess their love for their friend. Ron, however, looked over worriedly at Harry.

"Nothing has changed, even when you told me that you 'd been hiding part of yourself from me. I understand why you did that and I realized almost immediately that I still love you, no matter who you are."

Hermione smiled at his words.

"You are such a beautiful, strong, smart and stunning woman…and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Without hesitation, Hermione replied, "Yes!"

Draco, Luna, Ginny, Ron and Harry applauded. The girls were obviously immensely happy for her. Ron, however, knew that Harry felt differently and Draco had only begun to notice it as well.

"You okay, mate?" Ron whispered as the girls gushed over Hermione's ring.

Harry nodded, his entire body still stiff. His jaw was set and his hands clenched into fists. He counted down from ten, breathing heavily on every count.

"Waiter!" Draco called. "Bring us your finest wine for this lovely couple right here."

Harry stood up and put on a fake smile.

"I think I had too much to eat," Harry said in a jolly voice, patting his stomach for effect. "I'll just step outside for a bit."

Hermione was suddenly distracted from her moment of euphoria. She threw Ron a look and his face was enough for her to follow him outside. She found him leaning on a brick wall and kicking it with the back of his foot relentlessly.

"Hey," she said softly. "What's the matter?"

He looked at her and laughed sardonically.

"I'm fine," he said a little too firmly.

"You're _not_," she said.

"I _am_," he insisted.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what the problem is, Harry Potter," she said, folding her arms on her chest and raising an eyebrow at him. They stared at each other for a while, but Harry shook his head, ready to give in.

"I lost," Harry finally said, tossing his arms dramatically in the air.

"What are you talking about—?"

"I love you, Hermione," he said. She froze on the spot. "I've loved you longer than he probably has, and yet you still choose him."

"W-Well, I don't see you asking," she said defensively.

"I was going to," he replied, taking out a blue velvet box from his coat and thrusting it into her hand. He slid down the wall in defeat.

Hermione opened the box and gasped. The ring was beautiful. It was a simple gold band with a small jade stone in the center. She slumped down on the sidewalk next to him.

"Why?" she managed to choke out after a few moments.

"I tried telling you several times how I really felt but I choked," Harry replied. "I'll be here waiting, remember? I told you that."

"I never forgot," Hermione whispered. "I remember every single stupid thing you said to me. I thought you'd forgotten."

"I never did," he admitted. "I tried, but I couldn't. Astronomy Camp, when we literally slept together; that Victory Ball, I was ecstatic when McGonagall nearly forced us together; the Valentine Ball, I got to dance with you twice. Those were probably the best nights of my life."

"Mine too," Hermione admitted. "Tell me something…when we had that sleepover…did you or did you not come down and…sleep with me again?"

"I did," he said after a moment. "I couldn't resist. I wanted to be with you again. I liked having you asleep in my arms. It makes me feel that you're safe and that you're…mine."

Hermione wiped her eyes. This was ridiculous. Abso-_bloody_-lutely ridiculous. She'd been engaged no less than five minutes ago and now here they were, professing their love for each other. "Why had you been insistent on making my life miserable?"

"I had to keep a cover," he said. "I knew hurting you wasn't okay. I didn't want you to find out. I denied my feelings and pushed them away. At the same time…I pushed you away."

Another awkward silence stretched between them, filled by the sounds of New York night life.

"I _loved_ you, you know," Hermione finally said. "Luna knew everything. You have no idea how much it hurt me, seeing you with girl after girl after girl. Knowing that you've overlooked me a dozen times, the only girl who could have known exactly how to love you."

"I thought it was nothing," Harry confessed. "I'd had the inclination to ask you out, but I was so afraid that we'd lose this friendship. We were so amazing as friends, you know? I was so scared that a relationship with you might turn out just like every other one I had."

Hermione wiped her tears with her wrist. Hearing this from Harry himself was…surreal. She wanted to believe that this was not true, after all the trouble she'd gone through, trying to forget him and everything that happened between them. She wanted to forget them as easily as she thought he had.

"But Hermione, I'm ready to try again," Harry said, grasping her hand and looking directly in her eyes. "I'm ready to take that risk with you."

He continued to look at her with pleading eyes. "Choose me, Hermione," he pleaded. "Marry me."

Hermione closed her eyes to prevent herself from doing anything drastic. She was not a teenager anymore, both of them weren't. They had to be responsible adults.

"Harry, I love Charles," she said. The fact of the matter was, she really loved Charles. And Harry had been five minutes too late. She shook her head and returned the velvet box to Harry.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She stood up and held herself together, putting on a brave face to enjoy some wine with her friends and her fiancée.


End file.
